


Hello, Fergus

by Jem (Jemsauce)



Category: Takin' Over the Asylum
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 01:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemsauce/pseuds/Jem
Summary: Campbell visits Fergus' grave regularly, but it's been a while since his last visit, and he has a lot to share.  (Segue ficlet, bridging "Could This Day Get Any Worse?" with whatever the sequel will be called)This was prompted by a conversation I had with Franzi86, and is dedicated to her.





	Hello, Fergus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Franzi86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Franzi86/gifts).



Campbell squatted down and began carefully brushing away the collection of wet, decomposing leaves that were clinging to the grave marker of his old friend, Fergus MacKinnon, wiping away a few splatters of mud and grass with the edge of his sleeve before reverently laying down a bundle of yellow flowers that were wrapped in brown paper. He stood and turned the collar of his jacket up against the chill, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked down in sober silence at the plaque, reading the name over and over. Not that he would ever forget it. But it was the nearest thing he had to being able to see his face, the memory of which was fading into an ever thickening haze, more of a sketch of the mind now than a complete painting. He’d been gone some twenty-or-so years now.

“Well, Fergus…” he said at length. “Here I am again.” His voice sounded like stone being scraped on stone. Dry; brittle; harsh in the deafening silence of the cemetery, a place that felt–and indeed may have been–some other dimension entirely. “Sorry it’s been so long this time. Been a hell of a year. My da’ died, you know. I shoulda told you sooner.”

He glanced out over the horizon, as if he was avoiding the gaze of the man with whom he spoke. A lump was already forming in his throat, and he swallowed thickly, measuring his breath carefully.

“Aye, yeah, I didn’t handle that so well. Sorta took me by surprise, to be honest. We were never close. In fact, I’m not sure he much liked me. I mean, I know he wanted to like me, but I’m a loony. Not always easy to take.” He sighed, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “He was old. I mean, he was old when I was a wee bairn! Sometimes I wondered if he’d ever been young, or if maybe he’d just been born old.” He let out a soft, thin laugh. “Aye, anyway…”

He pulled a hand from his pocket and ran it through his longish fringe, which promptly fell back over the lenses of the glasses he now wore. Blinking back tears, he scanned the horizon again. Row after innumerable row of grave markers, all the way to a line of maples in the distance, which had become a point of fixation for him all these years visiting Fergus’ grave.

“Leanne left me. Took Charlie with her.” He swallowed painfully, wincing at his own words. “Never been so low. Even thought about joining you a few times. But I got through. I’m getting better… Things with me and Leanne, though… it’s done. It’s over, there’s no going back. I really fucked up.” He sighed. “But I get to see Charlie again, that’s what matters more than anything else. They sorta… sorta kept us apart for a while. I wasn’t really very good company for a three year old, I suppose,” he added wryly. “Well, four now. Had her birthday a couple of months back. I got to take her out, just the two of us for once, no supervision.” He smiled at last. “It was the best feeling, Fergus. I finally felt like I was back to my old self.” He held up a hand in a stopping gesture. “Not manic!” he said with a chuckle. “I promise!”

He sniffled, his nose growing pinker as the cold air nipped his skin. “Yeah, I fell off the wagon over the whole thing, too. No, I didn’t fall off the wagon, I jumped off the wagon. I flew off the wagon and ran the other direction.” He chuckled. “But I’m off the stuff again, clean and sober one hundred ninety-seven days now.” He crossed a finger over his heart, then scratched the back of his neck. 

“Funny thing happened to me recently. I got stuck in a lift. First time in my life that’s ever happened. It was all my fault, too. I really fucked up this poor woman’s day. Her name’s Bella. She was supposed to have a job interview that day, and I ran straight into her and broke her tablet. 

“Oh, tablets! Don’t think I’ve ever told you about those. They’re sorta like computers, but you just touch the screen to get it to do what you want. You’d love ‘em. 

“Anyway, she had all her interview files on the tablet, so I took her up to my studio to loan her mine, and we ended up stuck for a wee bit. Well, a while. An hour or two at least. Surprisingly tolerable! Bella, she’s a really special person. I sorta enjoyed myself.” He chewed his bottom lip. “A lot. Quite a lot. I like her, I think. There’s something about her… I mean, for one thing…” 

The alarm on his watch beeped, and he glanced at the time, frowning. “Well I probably shouldn’t say anyway. She hasn’t given me leave to share her personal information with the dead. Besides, I’ve gotta run. Gonna be late for my show at St. Jude’s. Eddie, Francine, and Rosalie all say hi, by the way. They told me to always tell you hi when I come ‘round. Hopefully they come round sometimes, too. Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” He shuffled his feet on the grass. “Anyway, seeya, mate. I’ll try not to make it so long this time.”

He lingered over the grave a moment or two more, then walked on, shoulders bent against the chill.


End file.
